Midnight Snacks
by furyofthetimelords
Summary: At first it was a matter of convenience. He needed blood and Clarke was the pretty nurse who didn't mind looking the over way while he 'borrowed' a few bags of blood. But then feelings got involved. AU


Midnight Snacks

Its midnight when he sneaks into the back of the ER. No one pays any attention to him; they're too busy trying to help the actually sick people. Bellamy can smell it in the air, the sick and the dying, those who'll live and those who won't. But what gets him the most is the blood, the hot, sweet smell of the blood. It's everywhere, permeating the air like some expensive perfume. He feels like he could drown in the delicious scent it quite happily. His fangs extend a little, pushing down on his bottom lip. It's uncomfortable, but he tries to focus on something else, anything else, but the sweet smell of the blood rushing under the skin of the people in the waiting room, just waiting to be—

_Why do you do this to yourself, Bell? It's not worth it_, he can hear his sister's voice in his head, scolding him again for coming in here. Octavia wasn't exactly cautious herself, but even she avoided a place like this. Bellamy knew it was horribly masochistic, but the payoff was worth it. He could survive walking through a practical buffet when it meant he could get the particular kind of nutrition he needed without killing anyone.

He knew it probably made him look weak compared to the others, but Bellamy refused to care. They all knew he wasn't someone to mess with—he'd proven himself enough times already. No one would question his power, even if he didn't drink right from the source. Blood may have been sweeter from the source, but at least this way he didn't need to hurt people.

Besides, _she_ made it a little easier.

Inching closer to a 'Staff Only' door, Bellamy checked to see if the coast was clear. People still didn't look his way. If anything, they avoided catching his eye. He looked dangerous enough even as a human, but as a vampire there was something about him that made people instinctively shy away, even if they didn't know why. Or most people did.

"Hey stranger," a voice calls from behind him. Bellamy turns around and smiles, pretending like he hadn't heard her coming.

"Princess," he says, feeling a small surge of warmth pulse through his cold body. The feeling is electrifying, like being alive again.

"Don't call me that," Clarke says with a roll of her eyes. "I'm a nurse, not royalty."

"But you look like one," he says, happy she was here.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she tells him. "Also, why did you bother coming this way? Walking right through the ER? Are you crazy?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Walk in that door?" he says innocently.

"You could wait out back," she suggests. Bellamy just shrugged.

"I wouldn't want to miss your pretty face, Princess."

"You'd still see me," she replies.

"It's more fun sneaking in."

"You're impossible."

Bellamy's smile grew wider. Despite all the reason in the world, Clarke wasn't scared of him, in fact she actually seemed to want to help ("It's my job to help people," she'd always say). At first he'd been reluctant to trust her, after all, it seemed like a suspicious deal, especially from someone who knew about vampires already.

But it had turned out well, much to Bellamy's surprise. He'd meet her at the hospital, she'd give him blood and then he wouldn't have to hurt a single person. It was nothing short of a miracle to him, that a human, especially one so purely _good_ as Clarke, wanted to help. Most people were clueless to the existence of vampires, and those who knew tended to either fear them absolutely or be completely obsessed with the idea of being one.

"So, what's on the menu this time?" Bellamy asks as they moved through the hospital.

"A positive, again," Clarke replies. "And a bag of O neg."

"Ooh, special."

"You're a lucky guy," she said, pulling out a freezer bag. "I couldn't get too much this time, but it's all I can do for now."

"It'll be fine," Bellamy said, taking the bag with ease. "I can cut down."

Clarke looked at him seriously. "Are you sure?" she asks, looking him right in the eye.

"I'll be fine."

"I don't want you to hurt anyone. Do that, and the deal's off."

"I know that," he replies. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Clarke gave him a small smile and handed him the bag. "Now, off with you. I don't want to see you lurking. People could get suspicious."

"It'll be like I was never here, scout's honour," he says.

"I doubt you're a little old to be a scout."

"Something like that," he replies. "Later, Princess."

**o0o**

It's midday when he next sees her, sneaking into Ark Hospital's Memorial Garden. He doesn't entirely know why, but yet here he is, standing in the shade of a large tree hoping the shadows don't get any smaller. It's too bright; he knows that, he can feel it on his skin, the sunlight making him feel like he's on fire. However, he can't really bring himself to care, especially after he sees Clarke.

He spots her immediately after arriving, despite it being weeks since he last saw her. She's sitting on a bench in the middle of the garden, soaking up the brilliant rays of sun. It's the perfect picture of serenity. Part of him wishes he was a normal guy, one who didn't have to hide in the shadows, someone who could come right up to her now and talk. It's a silly wish, but there's something about her in this moment that makes him want it.

That's when it hits him. Bellamy can't believe he didn't see it coming. He _likes _her. It's a scary realisation, one that pulls him up short for a moment, something that would've made his heart stop a moment if he still had a pulse. He thought he'd left such feelings behind when he Turned, that he'd become incapable of doing that. Vampires had always seemed so cold when he first met most of them, yet, impossibly, here he was, _caring_.

It didn't make sense in the slightest, but Bellamy couldn't bring himself to care about that, especially not after she looked up and spotted him, a smile lights up her face.

"I can see you there," Clarke says suddenly. It was barely above a whisper, but he could hear it as if she was standing right next to him. "I'd come over but I don't think security would like to know you're here."

Then, before he knows what he's doing, he's moving a little closer, dangerously standing at the edge of the shadows.

_If I took another step.._. he wonders if he'd burst into flames.

"You should probably go," Clarke says. His heart sinks slightly, but she's looking at him now, a small smile on her face. "I don't want to see you go up in flames, Bellamy."

_It's irresponsible_, he tells himself. Bellamy knows she's human, knows it all too well.

"But if you insist, I get off at three tonight," Clarke says casually, looking over at him.

_Just for tonight, _he tells himself, feeling the smile stretch across his face.

It's nearly six by the time he finally sees her. He can feel dawn creeping up on him, like a thief in the night, ready to snatch his freedom of movement and pull him into the shadows. Every second she's not there feels like wasting time. He's wondering if he'll ever see her again when she turns up.

"You're late," he states as she arrives. But he's just happy she's here. It's a strange feeling, being this happy at the presence of someone else, especially a perfectly human someone else.

"I was held up," she says, not looking at him. Bellamy wonders what's going on. There's something about her now, a sort of sadness that clouds her face and makes her shoulders droop. "It was an emergency."

"What happened?" he asks, but he wonders if that's the right thing to say.

"A car crash. It was hell in there. A girl almost died," she says.

"Did you know her?"

"Sort of. We were at the same... facility for a while," she says. "A long time ago."

"Facility?" he asks, though he wonders if he's crossed a line by saying it.

"Juvie."

He cocks an eyebrow. "So you were a teenage delinquent? I must say, I can't imagine that at all."

She smiles. It's small and barely there, but a smile all the same. He feels a small burst of warmth unfurl in his chest, a spark of happiness at knowing she's feeling a little better.

"It may come as a surprise, but I wasn't always this good."

"Can't imagine it," he says. "What'd they get you for?"

She shakes her head. "Stupid things. It's gone now."

"A secret criminal? I like that in a girl," he says.

"And you can talk?"

"Maybe I can," he says.

"I don't believe that, not for a second."

"Is it such a surprise that I've never been in trouble?"

"I don't believe it."

"Well, you'll never know."

"I can do my best to find out," she states. "Your record can't be that old."

"Maybe it is," he says, though he's reluctant to tell her the truth. Honesty isn't something he does well, especially not in this vampiric life. He wouldn't have been undead this long if he hadn't learned how to tell a good lie.

Clarke shakes her head. "You're a strange guy, Bellamy."

"You like me, Princess, admit it."

"Never," she says, though there's a smile on her face, a genuine thing that's almost as bright as what he imagines dawn must be like these days.

Suddenly, he feels a sort of burning sensation. "Shit," he curses, looking down at his hand. It's starting to turn red.

"Oh," Clarke says, the smile falling from her face.

"I guess I better be going now. Until next time."

And before he can stop himself, he leans down and kisses her cheek, barely a brush of lips on skin. He feels her flush, the scent of the blood almost overwhelming, though the Hunger doesn't feel too bad at the moment. Pulling away, he flashes a smile and moves back into the shadows.

**o0o**

Out of all the people Clarke's met in the ER, Bellamy Blake is probably her favourite. Although she'd never admit it to him, she likes him. Just the way he is, undeadness and all. Though sometimes she wonders what life would've been like if they'd met when he was alive. Maybe they'd have met at a Ball, dressed in finery and dancing the night away. Maybe it would've been in Ancient Rome, on the busy streets in the heart of the Holy Roman Empire. Or somewhere else entirely, a whole other life and time sadly unlived.

To keep herself busy, she tries to imagine these possibilities, sketching out the details in her mind as she moves through the more boring parts of her job. It's completely foolish, but it's a fantasy. And after all, isn't imagination important? Or at least, that's the way she tries to rationalise these indulgent dreams.

_You're in deep, Clarke_, her best friend Raven's voice echoes in her mind. Clarke tries to ignore it as she walks into the ER, wondering what kind of injury she'd witness tonight.

It's been a week since she last saw Bellamy, though she's been looking. All through her lunch breaks she finds herself looking up, scanning the garden for any sign of the vampire. But every time, there's been nothing.

So when he stumbles into the ER moment after she arrives, she's thrown off for a moment.

"Are you okay, sir?" she asks after she rushes over, but keeps herself a solid step back. The blood smell is overpowering. She notices his shirt is ripped open in several places, showing hints of the wounds beneath it. It's not the worst she's seen, but it looks bad.

"It's all mine," he reassures her. "I didn't hurt anyone."

"Well then, come with me," she says, pulling him towards an empty room before any of the other nurses can spot him. There's no way she's trying to explain the impossibility of his lack of pulse and corpse-cold skin. Or his apparent lack of aging.

"What the hell happened?" she asks, wondering if he'll give her a straight answer.

"It was just a little fight, Princess. You should see the other guy," he says, but the joke is weak. He looks in danger of collapsing. Not for the first time, she wonders how strong he is as a vampire, whether he really has some kind of impossible stamina or he's just as easily susceptible to exhaustion as she is.

"I thought you had some freaky healing thing going on?" she says, pulling off his jacket and shirt to take a closer look.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Too right," she mutters, looking over his chest, trying to ignore how good it looks by focusing on the huge, bloody gash across it. It's a miracle he even made it here with such an injury.

"I'm... I don't know what it is," he sounds terribly out of it now, as if he's floating away. Clarke worries. She's never treated a vampire before, let alone met one before Bellamy. Her heart clenches in her chest. She's supposed to be able to help people, not stand around uselessly, gawking at impossible injuries.

"How don't you know?"

"It... I don't know. I was jumped," he says, though she feels like there's a lie to it somewhere in there.

"You need to tell me what happened. Be honest."

"I can't be that guy."

"What?"

"Honest. I... I'm not like that. I need to lie. It's just how it is." he's babbling now. Her heart clenches in her chest.

"I'm not talking about spilling your darkest secrets; I just want to know what happened so I can fix you. Don't be so dramatic."

"Hold on a sec," she says, turning away from him for a moment and pulling out a set of bandages. He's still there when she turns around, which surprises her. She expected him to leave. Carefully, she tries to dress the wound, tending to it like she would a human patient. Though in such a case she'd have used stitches, though now it feels like that could be redundant. Despite its size, the wound is trying to heal already, Bellamy's skin trying to patch itself up before her eyes.

"You know, if you really want to touch me up close, all you had to do is ask."

"Be more original next time, won't you? I can't count how many times I've had that said to me," she says, feeling a small relief that he's still able to joke.

"I'll do my best, Princess. Just for you."

"Thanks... I think."

Suddenly, his body relaxes completely and he's on the floor, limbs splayed in an awkward manor. Clarke gets down on her knees, trying to listen for some sign of life. He must breathe, surely. Or something.

After a long and terrifying moment, she hears him breathing softly, almost snoring. It's a huge relief and she fights the urge to collapse herself. Clarke feels completely out of her depth and she hates it. She's supposed to help people.

_He's not people_, she reminds herself. The thought isn't comforting. It frustrates her that she can't figure anything out, that he just stumbled in here seeking her out and yet she can't do a damn thing to help.

"Fuck you, Bellamy," she curses. "Seriously, fuck you."

"If you're offering, Princess," he says weakly. Clarke nearly cries with relief.

"Not tonight. You nearly died. Again."

"That's something," he says, sitting up.

"You scared me," she admits. "Why'd you come here?"

"I just wanted to see you. Well that and I was wondering if you'd help me work out what got me," he confesses, trying to sit up. She pushes him back down.

"I can't tell now. It's bandaged. Besides, I've never seen anything like that before."

"I take it you've never been out in the real world, Princess. Still up there in your tower."

"This is the city, Bellamy. I've seen enough."

"It could've been worse; I could be actually dead, but I'm not. I guess I owe you my life," he says, in good cheer. "Now let me get up and enjoy the miracle."

"I didn't do anything," she says, letting him sit up and pick up his shirt. He frowns at it a moment before pulling it on.

"You did everything. You were there," he says, surprising her

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks, feeling her cheeks warm.

"Whatever you want, Princess," he says with a wink. "I'll see you around."

"You're the worst," she says, but she's smiling. Despite almost dying in front of her, he looks okay. And then before she can say a proper goodbye, he's gone. Clarke feels her anger come back, but not as aggressive as before. Mostly, she's just disappointed he didn't stay a little longer.

**o0o**

It's midnight again and he feels terrible about lying to Clarke. Bellamy is surprised at how it makes him feel, this restless itch inside him to just be honest with her about the incident is driving him mad. He's been avoiding her for as long as he could, but the need for blood was making him restless. But mostly he did it for Octavia who just simply yelled at him to "get the hell out and get some blood or else". So here he is, creeping back into the ER wondering how on Earth he'll explain anything to her, if at all.

"You took your time," she says after he arrives.

"I was... busy," he replies.

"Well, you should have come sooner," she says. "I was wondering if you'd found some other hospital nurse to exploit."

"You're my one and only, Princess," he says with a wink.

"I bet you say that to all the nurses," she says, smiling. He notices her cheeks are flushed.

"Nope. It's really just you."

"Well then, since you're my one and only vampire, I have a little extra for you. There are a couple bags of AB negative in this lot."

Bellamy smiles, taking the bag. "We'll be happy with that lot."

"We?" she asks, an edge to her voice.

Suddenly, he remembers he's never mentioned Octavia. "My sister," he says.

"I didn't know you had a sister. Or any relatives."

"What can I say? I'm a man of mystery, Princess."

"You're terrible," she says, smiling.

Bellamy doesn't even hesitate to smile back. Being with her feels as easy as breathing. Clarke is a breath of fresh air in his afterlife, something he wasn't aware he needed until he found her. It's strange, this dependency he has, but he can't bring himself to care too much. Her just being here makes it all okay.

He tries not to think about the consequences.

Its three weeks later at two am when he tells her the truth.

"I knew exactly what attacked me. And why."

The words are hard to get out, so they seem to bunch up together and escape all at once.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Clarke asks.

"Now, that's a long story."

"Are you going to tell me what happened or just lie about it?"

"It was a Grounder."

"A what?"

"A Grounder. They're a group of vampires with a nasty mean streak."

"What did you do piss them off?"

"Why do you instantly assume it was my fault? I'm hurt, Princess."

"Am I wrong?"

"No."

"So, tell me about it," she says, looking at him expectantly. They're sitting outside in the Memorial Garden, enjoying the small amount of privacy they have at this particular hour of the night.

So, under the starry night sky he told her the truth.

"I was twenty three when it happened," he begins. "I don't remember exactly how, but Octavia and I were attacked by... something. It killed us both. We woke up later, so you can imagine how confusing it was, waking up after something like that."

"I can't, really," Clarke said. "I didn't even think vampires existed until I met you."

"Well, it wasn't pleasant. Both of us had no idea what was going on, only that we were alive and _hungry_. I didn't kill anyone, mostly because I had no idea what was going on. Food didn't work. I tried eating anything I could get my hands on, but neither of us could keep anything down. Then, we met Anya."

"Was she the one who did it?"

Bellamy nodded. "She said she thought we'd been lost, then tried to explain what we were. And what we were supposed to do."

"What was that?"

"She wanted us to be part of her own. She's the leader of the Grounders, but I didn't want anything to do with her. So, I walked away."

"And I'm guessing Anya isn't the forgiving type."

"As far as I know, we were the only ones to refuse her offer. She thought she gave us the best gift there was."

"You disagree?"

"I didn't ask for this life," he says, not looking at her.

"I get that," Clarke replies. "That doesn't mean you can't change it."

"What's done is done. There's no going back from any of this. Anya made that pretty clear."

"I don't know about that, but you can stop living in the past. Start to live a little."

"I'm dead, Clarke," he says, looking up at her. "Look at me."

She meets his eyes, not looking away. "You're still a person. Maybe you're not like the rest of us, but that's no excuse to just give up."

"I'm not giving up. I just know what I am."

"No, you're letting this stop you. Just go out there and live. I don't know why you're around here," she says, shaking her head. "You could be anywhere. Doing _anything."_

"Not anything."

Clarke lets out a frustrated groan. "Maybe I haven't been around as long as you but let me tell you this: I know exactly what it's like to have a bad past. I've done things I'm not exactly proud of. But I didn't let them stop me. And you shouldn't either."

"I'm _undead._"

"Yeah, _un_dead. Not dead. There's a hell of a difference."

"Wow, Princess. Didn't know you were so smart."

She rolls her eyes. "This is serious. I don't get why you're lurking around here when you could do anything. It's like you have no purpose."

Suddenly, he feels brave. "Maybe I do have a purpose."

She looks at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he replies. "I do."

She's looking at him, right at him. It makes him feel electric, alive even.

"So are you going to tell me what that is?" she asks.

He takes a step closer to her, so they're face to face. "I could."

"Then do it," she says her eyes are still fixed on him, though she's looking at his lips.

Bellamy doesn't hesitate after that moment. He kisses her and the moment feels perfect. It's only for a brief moment, but it's quite possibly the best he's ever experienced. Reluctantly, he pulls away.

"Are you sure about this? You know I'm gonna be around forever. You're not," he asks. "I just want to be sure."

"I am. Though, I'm sure I can fix that, if you want," she offers.

"That seems like a pretty big task," he replies, though he can't deny the possibility is enticing. The idea of being human again is something he never quite thought he'd imagine. It was a wild dream before, but with the way she's looking at him now, it all feels so real.

"I'm sure I can think of something. I'm going to be a doctor soon."

"Anya made it pretty clear this is a pretty unchangeable thing."

"I'll take that as a challenge," she says, a glint in her eye.

He laughs. "Alright, Princess. Do it."

She smiles. "Give me ten years."

**o0o**

It takes her eight.

* * *

**A/N: I originally wrote this idea as a drabble over on tumblr, but on impulse I decided to adapt it into something a little longer.**


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